I find that life, day by day, is composed of at least one joy, one problem and one sorrow. Then there are the smaller ingredients: you always learn something, whether useful or harmful - that is difficult to analyze until later; you always give something; you alwayou always grow a little in one direction or another.

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

I miss the animal buoyancy of New York, the animal vitality. I did not mind that it had no meaning and no depth.

I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness.

Woman does not forget she needs the fecundator, she does not forget that everything that is born of her is planted in her.

We did not touch each other. We were both leaning over the abyss.

Now that I am moving, I am afraid. Where am I going?